


Reunion

by zosimos (trismegistus)



Series: Sceptre of Flamel Prompt List: The End of Dreams [3]
Category: Fullmetal Alchemist (Anime 2003)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-29
Updated: 2011-06-29
Packaged: 2017-10-20 20:13:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,121
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/216684
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trismegistus/pseuds/zosimos
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sceptre of Flamel - One book closes, another opens.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Reunion

Roy Mustang woke from thankfully dreamless sleep, the early morning sunlight creeping under the sheer curtains. He inhaled slowly, a little too warm, drowsy still but that being overridden by a bone-deep weariness. He felt like he was a million years old, like each breath he dragged into his body was burdened with the weight of centuries. He didn't ache, he wasn't in pain - just deeply exhausted. An exhaustion that it seemed no manner of sleeping could easily cure.

The room was unfamiliar. Roy looked at the curtains, watched them breathe slowly and realized that the window was open. He could smell the outside, bright and clean and summer-strong, the warmth of the day foretold in the brilliant morning sunlight. This was not a city-smell, there wasn't the hint of diesel exhaust or the coughing chug of military vehicles. He didn't know where he was.

Roy turned his head slowly on the pillow, very aware of his body. Sitting up beside his bed was Edward. There was a quiet moment of confusion - Roy's memories were a jumbled mess as he stared at the alchemist. He remembered joy and anger and rage and terror all juxtaposed on that face all at once, at it was almost too much for him to bear. He squeezed his eyes shut, his gorge rising and stomach so empty it made him ill.

Edward was sitting up in a chair, reading a book propped in his lap. It was an easy chair, and he was sitting back, legs crossed at the knee, chin in his automail hand as his eyes flickered tirelessly over the pagers. Roy stared at him, silent. He had never seen Edward like this, so open and vulnerable. He was wearing a sleeveless tee shirt that had been baggy on him once but now fit snug, his long golden hair worn down and over his shoulders.

Why was Edward sitting at his at his bedside?

More memories, jumbled like broken jigsaw pieces. Edward bright and defiant in the fading light of day, his jaw squared and determination in his eyes. A kiss, desperate and needy in the right ways, the rainwater making tracks down their faces. Roy opened his mouth a little as all the memories slotted together. Edward underneath him, the cords standing out in his neck as they moved together.

Edward moved only slightly to turn the page, but didn't look up.

He couldn't take his eyes from Edward as he tried to drudge the memories up from his exhausted mind. Roy lifted his hand slowly, feeling the weight of the world as he did so, before covering half of his face with the palm of his hand.

It was then that Roy realized he was looking out of both eyes.

That was impossible. He opened and closed his left eye several times. He had lost the entire eye, there had been shrapnel in the orb and the doctors had to remove it completely. At least, that was what he had been told when he woke in the hospital half-blind.

He was no longer half-blind. He could see through his left eye. Roy groaned, his hand on his face still feeling for the scars from his final encounter with the Fuhrer King Bradley, as well as the gunshot wound that so nearly claimed his life delievered by the automail monstrosity that Frank Archer had become.

Edward looked up then, the movement had caught his eyes and Roy saw his head snap up. He looked more tired than Roy realized, and a little bit older, too. Roy licked his lips, fingers moving up into his hairline and realizing how dry his mouth was. "Hey," he tried, his voice like gravel.

Edward's eyes were searching his, and Roy could see the anxiety there - and was that a little bit of fear? He'd never seen Edward actually afraid of something like this, but despite the quick flash of emotion that played through Edward's eyes his mouth twitched into a small, if worried, smile. "Hey."

It was a bit of an effort to form the words, his mouth and throat parched, but Roy persevered. "I realize the circumstances must be dire if you're keeping vigil, Fullmetal — but I could really use a drink."

Roy was unused to seeing the spectrum of emotions that shot across Edward's face - his emotional range in Roy's presence seemed to be divided into rage and arrogance - and Edward's brow furrowed a moment before he unexpectedly laughed.

It made Roy's heart soar to see Edward laugh like that, so free and so relieved. It was almost enough to make him not worry about how he came to be whole again, or why he felt this heavy darkness in his heart whenever he tried to summon his recent memories.

"It's you," Edward said, relieved and amazed, like he didn't expect Roy to be there. Roy had a temporary moment of irrational panic - was he in the wrong body? God, what if he was ARMSTRONG? - but the way that Edward was looking at him quieted that fear.

There was also something new in that look, something he'd never quite seen on Edward's face or in his eyes before. Affection.

"Of course it's me, Fullmetal. Who were you expecting?"

His eyes were shadowed, he didn't answer. "How do you feel?"

"Exhausted." Roy looked at the ceiling, then to the window. He touched his fingers under his left eye. "What happened?"

"Lots." When Roy looked back over, Edward had balanced the book on the armrest and stood up, moving the small distance between the chair and the bed. A little confused, Roy watched as Edward sat on the edge of the bed, turned in toward Roy. "Too much to go into, Roy - what do you remember?"

Roy. Not Colonel, Roy. Clearly he had a lot he needed to remember. "Not much," Roy said truthfully. "Flashes, here and there." Edward, blood covering half his face and in his hair, and feathers, so many white feathers. "How-?"

Edward being so open and casual, his left hand hand catching Roy's wrist and gently tugging his hand away from his face. "Later," he promised. He was silent a long moment, looking into Roy's face, his own so open. "It really is you, isn't it."

That wasn't a question. The emotion behind Edward's words made Roy's stomach clench. There was a momentary flash of absolute helplessness and impotent rage, and Roy swallowed the lump that had appeared in his throat.

"Yes," he said quietly, trying not to acknowledge Edward's wet eyes. "It really is me, Edward."

Edward's smile was broken, he was struggling to keep it on his face as he held Roy's hand tightly in his flesh one. "Welcome home."

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt #3 of 30: Reunion.


End file.
